


Too high a price

by BookNymph



Category: Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, Multi, Romance, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookNymph/pseuds/BookNymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about Nuada's past and future, relationship with Nuala,war,politics,choices and consequences, growing up and love. Nuada is still alive. Dark-ish at first, but things get lighter later on. Nuada x non-human OC romance as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Credits/Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my copy of the movie and I am not making money from this. Thanks to Rhiakaran (from the official Luke Goss fan forum) for being a wonderful beta.** ****

**Also, the OCs I have created are not to be used without my permission. And if you wish to post this story somewhere else (do not forget to credit me), let me know first.**

Nuada didn't know long he had been lying on the Golden Chamber's floor with pain and sweat pouring from every cell in his body, with only lifeless mechanical soldiers to guard him. A sudden sharp pain knifed through his body, as he tried to move, and filled his body with each breath he took. He could feel his life's blood still escaping through the hole, which ran straight through his abdomen, to his very core. He couldn't have been unconscious for long.

But that wound was nothing compared to the loss he was feeling. It hurt more than any physical pain he'd endured his entire life. More than the enemy's blows on the battlefield, more than the injuries he had suffered during his training, more than the knife wound itself.

Images came rushing back, images of Nuala pulling the knife out of her fragile body."Why? Why did she do it?" Nuada's mind kept asking. "Why did she betray me? And not only me, but our people."

A moment of clarity provided the answers: she had done it to save that demon, to stop the Golden Army from purging the Earth of all humans, to stop him before he dishonored himself even further. She anticipated the sneak attack from the moment he had turned his back to that demon. And perhaps a last, desperate attempt to free herself from him? It hurt. More than any previous defeat.

He felt his heart break a little more with each remembrance.

Nuala… For millennia he had wanted her. There were things that he had always admired in his sister when he was younger, and when they had both leaped into adulthood, made him fall in love with her: her kindness, her patience, her gentle and delicate nature, her grace, her care for all living beings. He had not been shy about his intentions, about his desires, but she would not surrender herself to him, she wanted nothing of the sort.

If he were a different kind of man, he could have broken her mind. He was, after all, the strongest one, both physically and mentally. Given enough time, and time he had had, he could have crushed her will and made her his. He could have kept her for himself, possessed her for all eternity. Soon, she would have grown tired of fighting and she would have capitulated, surrendered to him and she would have been his. He would have owned her, owned her mind and body and, perhaps, even her soul. But Nuada was not that kind of man.

And in the end, what did it matter having her body, if her heart belonged to another? The most important part of her would be forever denied to him. How could he have been this blind? To hope she would one day return his feelings? In the space of one day, only one day, she had given her heart away to some… amphibian. Disgust invaded his thoughts.

He closed his eyes, a cold emptiness settling into his chest. For a second time in his life, he knew the bitter bite of failure, the dawning realization of an unattainable goal.

He had not minded fighting the demon and his team. He was a warrior, fighting was what warriors did. He would not have even minded taking all their lives, for they meant nothing, nothing at all to him. She, however, did. And he could not kill the fish-man, for it meant hurting her. He couldn't do anything about it and he felt powerless. This thought made his breath short, filled his gut with terror and cramped his chest. He had never felt this powerless, not even when his father had decided to bury the Army in the depths of the Earth. There had always been some glimmer of hope, but there was a finality about Nuala's decision that could not be denied.

As breath returned and memories ended, reason was restored. He had to get out of there, while he still had the chance. He would not fall into the hands of the enemy. He would not spend eternity in a human prison, at their mercy. He breathed into the discomfort and pulled himself up.

"Regrets are useless. What is done is done."

And with that, he took one last look around the Chamber, imprinting every detail into his memory, for he was never going to return to this place, everything from the pillars that had his clan's history written on, to the puddle of molten gold which was most likely what remained of his crown and finally, the terrible Army soldiers, never to be awoken again.

His spear was lying on the floor, close to him. Nuada picked up his one faithful companion, the only one that was left, since Wink's death, and he transported himself to the lair.

XXX

The stairs emptied into a dark, cavernous room, most of it unlit. The only lights were from some lamps surrounding him and a fire slowly dying on a small stone hearth. The one torchlight flickered, bending shadows across the stone walls of what had been his home for the last few years. And will probably continue to be for the next ones as well. He hated being here. He hated that he had to come here. It was a cold place, somewhere no-one truly belonged.

As he was descending the eroded stone stairs, each step was becoming more and more of a struggle to keep his balance as blood kept gushing out of his wound. Gravity weighed down on him, his grip was slipping from the stone wall he had latched onto. His mind was breaking down, filled with strobe memory images dancing on the cusp of unconsciousness. _Nuala. Betrayal. The Army._ He finally faded into the blackness of unconsciousness, on the cold stone stairs.

XXX

When he woke he felt thirsty as never before in his life. He slowly rose from the ground and tried to reach his pallet. He had always kept several bowls of water there, for his everyday needs. His shaking hands grabbed one of them and drank. He took one careful sip, for the water was icy, then another, the third one transforming into gulping and finally poured the remaining water on his body. As the cold shocked his system, he woke completely.

He slowly took off his ruined armor and shirt and looked at the wound. It was getting slightly better. Since he hadn't done anything about it, logic told him that wherever she was, Nuala was being taken care of. Still, he reached for a small healing potion, to help speed up the process. He would have to call for a healer soon.

"Where are the boggarts when I actually need them?" Nuada thought irritated. They would always be around the lair, never quite daring to enter his personal space unless there was something of great importance happening, always hoping they could somehow get in his good graces by running an errand or sharing some information.

Recollections of the other day took over his conscious mind, while loss filled the lair and was starting to erode his very soul. He could feel Nuala's presence inside his mind, a spark floating in the darkness.

But she was not his anymore. "Was she ever?" He thought. Jealousy and anger returned his clarity once again, drawing him out of his melancholy. He pushed away that part of him, he pushed their bond to the back of his mind. It will not do to continue pursuing this particular goal. He was not that foolish. And he still had some dignity left.

Everyone makes choices, and with these choices come consequences that must be lived with. Nuala made hers. She would not side with him, not now, not ever.

He was now making his. This form of mental exile would be his penance and his pain. He would have to leave the part of him that was Nuala – all that she was to him, all that she stood for - behind. His people needed to share his strength, not his weakness, in order for them to prevail. He could not afford any more distractions, he would focus solely on what had to be done.

They were the last of their kind and they must survive. It did not matter the cost or the means, he was now their leader and he would save them, even if it meant that another race would die, they would survive.

All he had was determination, hatred and a need to kill them. This need would eat at him until he could fulfill it, Nuada was well aware of that. It was his nightmare - unending survival and battles, with only the bleak memory of what used to be, the promise of what might have been.

"What used to be…" He thought darkly.

He couldn't deny that, no one could, that the world was once beautiful and that the humans have made it ugly. His frustration was building, and he had long reached his limit.

 **Author's note:**

 **All writers love reviews, good or bad. They are precious insights into our reader's minds. They usually make us try harder. They often make us get better at what we do. They always motivate us to keep going. They show us what we've done well, what we've done badly and what we could have done differently. Ultimately, they make us happy. Just something to think about :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Credits/Disclaimer:** I do not own anything but my copy of the movie and I am not making money from this. Thanks to Rhiakaran for being a wonderful beta.

 **Also, the OCs I have created are not to be used without my permission. And if you wish to post this story somewhere else (do not forget to credit me), let me know first.**

 **I appreciate your feedback. Reviews and comments are most welcomed.**

Nuada took a deep breath, trying to calm himself enough so he could meditate, but the undercurrent of anger and frustration refused to leave hi and settled securely in his mind. He felt it, the tightening sensation of a bow string being pulled to its zenith. Nuada was filled with a rage that was impotent for all its passion. He willed himself to relax, while waiting for the healer to arrive. His eyes snapped open as he heard someone coming down the stairs. But it was not who he was expecting to see.

"You should know better than to ever disturb me when I am resting." Nuada's angry growl echoed in the cavern-like space. "You have something _of great importance_ to tell me?" He scowled down at the boggart who had dared intrude on his privacy.

Frightened and shaking, the three-handed creature bowed before the Prince and told him that there was a young elf girl up at the Market and that she was very much in trouble. It appeared that no one else dared confront the troll she had managed to upset and it thought that maybe the Prince of Elfkind would do something to save his own kin.

Ignoring his wound, Nuada put a random shirt and armor on, got up and grabbed his spear, deciding to assess the situation himself, before taking a particular side. Elf or not, the girl might not deserve to be rescued. For all he knew she may not be an innocent victim. And in such situations, he did not interfere.

He stopped a few feet away from the two in question, to listen.

"Please, I don't want to fight you. I said I'm sorry and that I'll pay for another barrel of wine. Please, just don't start a fight." The girl's pleading did nothing to diminish the troll's rage. As it was, the creature was slowly advancing towards a mass of blonde hair and muddy purple attire lying on the ground.

Nuada let out a low growl. Upon noticing their ruler's presence, the crowd went completely silent, swiftly moving out of his path, fearing his reaction. Everyone was waiting expectantly, except for the two in question.

"You're right. I don't want to fight you either, little girl. Perhaps quickly killing you would be more appropriate. That should teach you to pay more attention to where you're heading. You've soaked my best clothes."Judging by the slight slur his words were spoken with, Nuada deduced that the individual must be drunk. Drunken trolls were particularly difficult to reason with.

"Uhm, if you kill me I can't really pay attention to anything after that…" Her reply spiked the troll's anger anew and he reached out to grab her by the throat and put an end to her annoying whimpering. The girl didn't manage to get away in time and she found herself suspended above the ground, the troll crushing her neck.

"Stop!" Nuada barked. The situation was clear enough. His intervention would indeed prevent the spilling of innocent blood. The Fey were few enough as it was, they should not be adding to the body count by killing each other over such trifling, especially since the girl offered to cover the costs of the damaged goods.

The troll diverted his look to Nuada. Pretending to not understand his command, he simply watched his Prince, all the while continuing to cut the girl's air supply.

"Release her," Nuada commanded, "you are killing her." The troll continued to stare, unwilling to liberate his victim."Now, or you will face my blade for disobeying an order." Nuada extended his spear and let the blunt end strike the ground with a thump. He did so more for support than as an intimidating gesture, but he gave no indication of his weakness and so nobody ventured as far as to imagine that their Prince might not be fit to fight, but merely that he wished to settle this in a non-violent manner.

The troll unceremoniously dropped the girl on the floor. He was not as drunk as to provoke the Prince. That would mean if not certain death, than at least a beating so terrible, he would end up begging for death.

"Wise decision," Nuada commented and without another word, walked away. He was aware he had lost a lot of blood and that his state of lightheadedness would only get worse. It would not do to collapse in the middle of the Market. Yet he could only get so far. Nuada stopped and leaned on a wall. He tried to transport himself away, but he was far too weakened to do so. Darkness threatened, then enveloped.

The girl coughed and struggled to regain her breath. While doing so, she smelled blood. Lots of it. It came from somewhere behind her. Her rescuer, she thought. She turned around in time to see him turn the corner and lean on the wall. She got up and followed only to find him lying on the ground.

"Great. Well, I can't let you die here, now can I?" She tried pulling him up a little so that he would lean on her and not risk hitting his head on something on the other side, but she lacked the strength. "Fat elf." She grabbed his spear in one hand, the other holding his arm and transported them both to safety.

XXX

When Nuada woke, a sensation of déjà-vu reigned in his mind. This falling in and out of consciousness during the past two days was becoming too habitual for his liking. As his vision slowly came to focus, he was unpleasantly surprised to discover he no longer was in the Troll Market, but not in his lair either.

The last thing he remembered - leaning on a wall, in a dark alley of the Troll Market - was still fresh in his mind, as though it had just happened. There were no blank spots or missing parts. It was all one consecutive memory. So how did he get here? Someone must have carried him, his rational mind concluded. But who? And where exactly was this "here"?

Pain blossomed in his body as he tried to move, but was thankful to see he had not been bound. _Yet._ An angry growl escaped his throat, seeing that he was forced to lay still. He took a deep, calming breath. He needed to assess his situation, then think of a suitable action plan.

The first thing he did was to take a look at his surroundings. He was in a room, alone. The room itself had nothing special about it; it was plain and relatively empty, safe for the bed he was lying in and a few other pieces of wooden furniture, which were all polished to a gleaming brilliance. The sunlight coming from the windows -which had no bars, he noted- told him it was daytime and that he was above ground. Nuada started to think of all the places in which Fey were living so out in the open. There were almost none. Whoever had brought him here must own a domain far away from the prying eyes of the humans. Unless that person _was_ a human.

Afterwards, Nuada proceeded to check the condition of his wound. That was when he finally noticed the state of partial undress he was in. His shirt and armor were missing, same as his weapon, he noted grimly, but the other half of his outfit was still in place. The wound had been properly bandaged and there were no blood stains, neither on him, nor on the sheets. Which meant it was starting to heal properly. And that someone had been taking care of him. He could have been easily killed, defenseless as he was while unconscious, but that did not happen. On the contrary. It intrigued him, to say the least.

Nuada knew he had always had a fair share of enemies, and was fully aware that their numbers must have certainly increased since he had killed his father. Accident or not, King Balor's loyal followers were not pleased and he had to be prepared for their retaliation.

"It's good to see that you're awake" a female voice, its tone barely above a soft whisper, let Nuada know he was no longer alone. He turned to face his savior. Or captor, whichever were the case.

"The healer told me you might not have pulled through if I hadn't brought you here and called him as fast as I have. " She slowly began walking towards his bed, all the while continuing her speech. "You had quite a bad gash in your abdomen," she said, taking a look at the bandaged area, probably to check on its condition. "He was surprised you could move at all," the girl added in an astonished tone.

Nuada could only stare at her in disbelief. And it was not because she kept on talking – in his language, giving him no chance to say anything, but because she seemed to be a mere child. "No. Not a child. Early years of adolescence," he mentally conceded upon further examination. Also, she was not a human, but neither elf. Simply fey, he concluded. Nuada would have truly disliked it if he were in a human dwelling.

"You know, I didn't think you'd pull through." She added warily, almost to herself, all the while looking down.

"Where am I?"

The sound of his voice took her by surprise a little. It was rich, dark and firm, yet also kind of smooth, something like satin and crushed velvet over a bar of steel.

"In my house. I brought you here after you collapsed."

A thought crossed his mind. "It was you who I have saved?"

"Yes. Thank you, by the way."

Nuada felt the sudden need to educate the boggarts on the appearance of an elf. How could have they mistaken her for one? Certain, there were some similarities, but even so. The fact that he had made the same mistake as they was of no importance. He had only had a view of her back. And from behind, she looked elven enough.

She had golden eyes, but unlike his own. Hers were bright, twin rays of light and their color was not solid, like his, they were quite different from any others he'd seen. The pupils were slit, much like a cat's – probably because of the light the room was basked in, and their rich blackness contrasted with light yellow that surrounded them. Her features were not as sharp as those of an Elf, but rounded, very feline. Her curly-but-not-quite blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back and her skin was a soft white, not as pale as to make her look dead, its color was almost similar to that of some humans. Small nose and mouth, delicate bone structure, she was a fairly pretty girl, if he came to think of it.

"Where are my clothes and spear?"

"Your weapon is on that cha... _Was_ on that chair." The girl corrected herself and frowning, she proceeded to walk around the bed and bend down. Then, picking it up, she handed it over to him. "Here, it must've fallen down. Sorry about that, didn't mean to be careless with it."

Nuada unceremoniously grabbed it from her hand, without even thanking her. It was good to have his spear back in his possession (even though in reality it had never been far from him), for he now had a way of defending himself. From whom, he was not entirely sure. Not from this child, in any case. A small part of him had to marvel at her recklessness, for she had given him a weapon, unaware that he might use it to kill her. But then again, she was still a child. And he did not kill his rescuers, much less if they were children. He did not kill children, period. Others however...

Perhaps protection against whoever else was there with them. Although a responsible adult would have warned her not to give weapons to strangers, no matter the circumstances. Foolish gesture indeed.

With his spear in his possession and with most important questions answered, Nuada couldn't help but give in to his curiosity."You are not an elf. A nymph, perhaps?"

"Actually, I am an elf."

Nuada raised an eyebrow. Was this her idea of a joke?

"I'm half Sylvari. And half Mithra."

"You are what?"

Those races were completely unfamiliar to him. As a Prince, it was his duty to know every single fey race, and thanks to his centuries of travelling the earth, he had also encountered almost every type of halfling. Except the ones she had just named.

"The Sylvari. A race of elves, born from the sacred trees. And the Mithra. An isolated race of cat-like beings." After a small pause, she added with a wide grin, revealing her fangs "Can't see the resemblance?"

Very well, so he will not be lecturing the boggarts. But how in the name of the Gods had he not heard of the Sylvari until now? Or of the Mithra, for that matter. Others apparently had. Also, from what he knew, his kind was dying. Since this girl was young, meant that she had been born recently. New race of elves also meant that the sacred life-giving trees were not all gone. How very intriguing.

He tried sitting down on his bed rather than lying in a very un-royally manner, but was forced back by the building pain radiating from the wound.

"You shouldn't really move. Want me to help?"

He grudgingly he nodded his acceptance. He hated needing help. The girl approached him and fixed a couple of pillows behind him, to support his back and give him leverage. Other than becoming rather stiff, he gave no signs of discomfort. When the girl wrapped the sheets around his waist, Nuada noticed another detail. She had claws. Not ridiculously long nails that might as well have been claws, but actual claws. Before she could move away, he had grabbed one of her hands and studied it. A light shade of pink colored the girl's cheeks.

He wondered how sharp they were. A light brush of his finger over the tip of one of them provided him the answer. Very sharp.

"May I have my hand back?"

Nuada inclined his head in thankfulness and released her, then frowned. A question formed in his mind, but he dismissed it. Sharp as her claws were, the girl could not have dealt any major damage to the troll. His kind had thick skin and it also possessed fast regenerating skills. Still, it demanded to be voiced.

"What is it?"

"You did not need my help back there, did you?"

She wasn't sure what to reply. She did not want to lie, yet telling him she could have handled things on her own did not seem like a wise decision. After all, this warrior, who, given the gravity of his wound, had risked his own life to save hers, may not like to find out that she had not needed any rescuing.

"You can be honest."

"Well, not really. But your intervention did help me avoid some nasty bruises," she said, smiling at him. It was the truth, actually. "Look."

His eyes widened in shock as the girl extended her claws to what had to be their full length. They had suddenly become a real threat, even for a troll. In proportion to her fingers, they were half as long and almost as thick. Ten miniature knives, but sharp as any blade. Deadly. Very deadly. He now understood why she claimed she could have taken care of herself. And at the same time, became a slight threat.

"Impressive, no?" She giggled at him.

"Quite," came his dry reply.

Nuada was beginning to feel tired. This was ludicrous, given that he'd spent the last two days either unconscious or lying in his bed.

"I should let you sleep."

Sleeping was actually the very last thing Nuada wanted to do, however he had no choice but to give in to his body's demands. Having his weapon with him gave the prince a measure of comfort.


	3. Announcement

As you all know, this story hasn't been updated in years. I have another one in the progress, I already have around 30-35 chapters written (go me, right?), but I need a beta to go over them, because my grasp on this language isn't what it used to be, with me being Romanian and not a native speaker. I haven't been able to find anyone on tumblr or ffnet or anywhere else to fill that role, so I am writing and hoping for a knight in shining armor, a dedicated fan to join my crazy plot bunnies.

So... if anyone is interested, please message me or leave a comment or send me a smoke signal. I can reward you with hopefully a good story, other Nuada ficlets, a character inspired by you or a cameo, all of the above.


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